Baskadia

In Prison

Around me are walls

That keep me from leaving.

All I see are only corners

With no doorways or passage.

With nothing around to see

But same all things every day, 

I remember the days

Way back when I was free:

The walks which I used to hate

Because they kept me sweating

Under the scorching heat

Are one of those I want the most.

I miss the loud honking of horns

That angry motorists blew

As they maneuvered through the crowd

Of the never-ending traffic jam!

Those beaches that I used to go

With friends and loved ones

As we unwind to shoo away the blues

Are now shut for us to cruise

Those church bells that I used to ignore

As they invited me to a celebration

Are other things I wish to hear

Now that I am in this prison cell.

I want to go out

And smell the flowers

That freely grow along the roads

Of the path that I used to take every day.

Oh, how I miss all that used to be

Way back when I was free...

Way back when I was not yet trapped 

In these walls so compact. 

Going out could either lose the life in me

Or take the life of those whom I would be 

As I might be breathing or exhaling

The air of death everyone is loathing.

I am in prison!

Though I yell or cheer,

I would only despair

For I could never be where I want to be 

And all I can do

Is to wait for the day 

When I would hear the news

That my bondage is loose!

That the walls that confine me

Already have doorways, 

And the barricades that stop me from going around

Would already be lifted so I may be free.

I am counting the days when I would finally be free!

I am in prison... Set me free!